


I Like You Very Much

by operationhades



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Lydia, Cursed Scott, Cursed Stiles, Declarations Of Love, Foreign Language, Gen, M/M, Mute Scott, Tumblr Prompt, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationhades/pseuds/operationhades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You should never make fun of someone's looks, even if it's a witch with a pointy hat and flying broomstick. <em>Especially</em> when it's a witch with a pointy hat and flying broomstick.</p><p>(Lydia pulls out her phone and angrily demands, "Say 'my name is Stiles'."</p><p>Giving her a suspicious look, Stiles dutifully says, <em>"Magacey gi waa</em> Stiles.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _**prompt:**_ Teen Wolf; Derek/Stiles (or gen), unusual language.
> 
> ( **edit:** second chapter is from Stiles' pov, for translations!)

"Stiles," Derek grits out,  _this_ close to finally losing it and forcibly silencing the boy. "Nobody understands what you're saying, so just _s_ _hut. Up!_ "

" _Khalad kaygi miyaa ina i fahmin!?"_ Stiles immediately answers, throwing his hands up into the air in exasperation. " _Maya_!" He decisively adds, and Derek can tell from the tone that he just answered his own question, though he has absolutely no clue what the hell the question had been _in the first place_.

It's all because of a goddamn witch anyway, Derek thinks angrily as Stiles starts pacing around the loft constantly  _speaking_ in that accursed language nobody recognises. It's because of a goddamn witch with an honest to god pointy hat and flying broomstick that had gotten offended when Scott and Stiles had burst out laughing at her. It's because she'd exacted revenge by cursing Scott to be mute and Stiles to suddenly switch languages so nobody could understand him.

Everybody whole heartedly agrees it should've been the other way around.

If Derek has to hear one more throaty  _kh_ sound or a harsh  _h_ , he's going to kill someone. Violently.

"What is he even  _saying_?" Isaac asks wonderingly, eyes following Stiles as he makes another loop round the living room.

Peter shrugs, looking amused as Stiles suddenly points a finger at him and angrily shouts, " _Wijigaa waa necbahay!"_ then carries on pacing.

The door suddenly opens, and Allison, in full hunter attire, walks in followed by Lydia, both of them wearing identical frowns.

"She's gone," Allison greets them with, unable to keep her gaze from drifting over to Stiles in morbid fascination. "All of her stuff's gone too. She could be anywhere by now. But she left a note saying that it would disappear in a while, just like Deaton said."

Sitting on the floor, Scott gives a pathetic little nod, sad and depressed in a perfect counterpart to Stiles' anger and irritation. Allison makes a soft noise and makes a beeline for him, and in a blink they're cuddling, the display of affection nauseating Derek.

" _Aniya na waa rabaa waxaas."_ Stiles says, coming to a stop besides Derek as he waves a hand towards the couple. " _Wiligeygi ma helaayi khof oo i jacal?"_

"Oh my god," Lydia huffs, "Has he been like that since we left?"

Derek nods, rubbing a hand across his face wearily. Rolling her eyes towards the heavens, Lydia pulls out her phone and angrily demands, "Say 'my name is Stiles'."

Giving her a suspicious look, Stiles dutifully says, " _Magacey gi waa_ Stiles. _"_

Quick fingers type on the phone, and before Boyd can even cock an eyebrow in curiosity, Lydia snaps it shut and airily announces, "He's speaking Somali."

"So-what?" Isaac repeats, eyebrows high.

"Somali." Comes the curt answer. "The official language of Somalia, a country in the east of Africa. They're mostly known for having one language, one culture, and one  _everything_ which is pretty rare for an African nation, but not unheard off. Also known as the horn of Africa."

"Isn't that, like, pirates?" Isaac wonders, eyes tracking over to Stiles who looks pleased to have a name for whatever he's saying. Or maybe he's just pleased to be speaking the language of sea pirates. Derek wouldn't put it past him.

Lydia scoffs at them all, looking completely unimpressed as she says, "Anyway, it'll go away sooner or later. Until then, shut up Stiles."

Stiles makes an affronted noise, then says, " _Maya._ "

Lydia nods once, decisively, then walks away with the ever present sway to her hips to sit on the opposite side of the sofa from Peter. Derek watches her go, then glances at Stiles, who looks like he's holding back a grin, and thinks maybe the word means no. It's not the first time he's said it, this  _maya_ , and it'd be just like Stiles to take advantage of nobody understanding him to be a little shit.

In fact, it turns out Stiles does just that - take advantage of it, that is - but rather than insult everyone's heritage, he seems to be saying... very important things to people, if the serious expression on his face is anything to go by.

 _"_ Isaac, _"_ he starts, sitting in front of the teenager and looking him straight in the eyes. " _Majacli sitha athiya iyo_ Scott  _saaxibo sla nokhateen, laakin khof hum ma tihid. Balawga waa waalaneed, laakin hadda waa fecnaatay. Waxa jaclaanilahay ina anega na saaxibo nokha no. Laakin ma akhaani sitha..."_ He pauses, makes a face like he's trying to figure out how to say something, then says, " _sitha sameeno saas."_

Wide eyed, Isaac looks to Boyd then Scott, who both shrug, then to Derek, who gives him a raised eyebrow that gets across his 'what the hell you looking at me for?' loud and clear. Finally, he turns to Stiles and simply says, "Um, okay. Yeah. Sounds great."

Stiles  _beams_ , then moves on to the others.

One by one he goes through everyone - barring Lydia, who he simply gives a radiant smile too and walks the hell away from. Peter gets something that sounds like a lecture, Boyd gets a very exasperated,  _"Markasta waa xanaagsantahay!"_  and Scott gets an enthusiastic hug and a bro-fist.

Derek? Derek gets a very determined Stiles glaring him down with arms folded across his chest. And a whole barrage of words he can't make heads nor tails off, which starts off fierce and energetic and slowly tapers off until it sounds almost heartbreaking, like Stiles is opening up his soul and letting everything pour out, even though nobody will actually _hear_ him. It has Derek _feeling_ things, things like how Stiles shouldn't ever have to be reduced to taking advantage of no one understanding him to actually speak what he's obviously been hauling up inside him for who knows how long. It makes Derek want to know like burning what exactly Stiles is telling him, what could have Stiles' scent subdued and sincere, his heart rate picking up noticeably in apprehension as he finishes off with, " _Aad ban kuu jaclahay."_

It... sounds decisive. Like Stiles has just made a decision and declared it, and he's waiting for a reaction now. Derek stares at him, completely unsure how the hell he's supposed to act, but after a pregnant moment Stiles laughs a sad little laugh, waves at Derek dismissively, and goes towards the stairs to sit. The dark shadows of the corner of the loft swallow Stiles up, leaving his features stark and almost too sharp, making him look ten years older with a hundred years' guilt on his shoulders.

Derek doesn't like that look, so he stews in silence until everybody starts packing up to leave. Peter's the first to go, bored and itching to be anywhere else but surrounded by them, then Lydia, then Scott and Allison, and finally Boyd and Isaac. Derek inclines his head at Stiles to stay, holds up a hand to signal silence until he can't hear any of his pack anymore, then turns to Stiles with a determined face.

Slowly, haltingly, he says, " _Adban ku jahlay_."

Stiles stares at him, and the next few minutes tick on by with neither of them saying anything, with only their hearts (Stiles' quick, Derek's steady) beating in a pathetic attempt at synchronizing. Then Stiles laughs. There's layers of hysterics in it, of disbelief, and Derek worries that he might have done something wrong, might have screwed something up again, just like he always does, every single time.

But then Stiles steps towards him, comes in close - distressingly close - and kisses Derek softly on the lips; just a small peck, a chaste touching of lips. Again, with amber eyes streaked with gold, Stiles says, " _Aad ban kuu jaclahay."_

And suddenly, Derek knows.

And with the beat of their hearts suddenly slotting together like home, Derek presses in close and kisses Stiles, hands coming up to hold him, and says in English, "Yeah. I love you too."

The next day, Derek will realise Stiles had been saying, "I like you very much," and not "I _love_ you" like he'd expected, which will explain why Stiles had blushed something fierce and seemed ecstatic at Derek's words.

Then Lydia will tell them both that Somali doesn't even  _have_ a word for love, not exactly, but that what Stiles had said would be considered a love confession anyway, so it doesn't really matter much in the long run.

"Well then," Stiles will grin, turning to face an exasperated Derek with a mischievous look. "I like you very much, Derek Hale."

And Derek, with a straight face, will say, "Shut up."


	2. Aad Ban Kuu Jaclahay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' point of view, for the translations! \o/

"Stiles, nobody understands you so just  _shut. Up!_ "

"Is it my fault that you don't understand!?" Stiles shoots back, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation at Derek's grumpy face. "No!" He adds on, just to answer it, because hell no it isn't, and everybody should suffer along with him and take responsibility for the stupid situation they're in.

Obviously Derek should've never let him and Scott go anywhere near the witch's hideout, especially if he knew just how  _ridiculous_ she would look. There was a pointy black hat with a crooked end and everything! Like the sorting hat in  _Harry Potter_! Stiles had been  _waiting_ for the damn thing to start singing! If you willingly go outside knowing the general populace will think you look ridiculous, then you should accept all responsibility for it and take it like a man. Or, uh, a woman. Yeah. The witch should not have reacted so badly to Stiles and Scott laughing. She should've been  _used to it_.

Which, now that he thought about it, sounded very much like victim blaming.

Jeez,  _fine_. It was totally Stiles' (and Scott's) fault for laughing. They probably shoudn't have done that. Correction; they  _definitely_ shouldn't have done that. Now Scott was mute and nobody could understand Stiles, despite the fact that he was speaking  _English_ , or at least, he  _thought_ he was.

Pacing around Derek's stupid loft, Stiles reluctantly admitted that the majority of the fault was theirs, and not Derek's. "Okay, so, we were stupid, but we're also teenagers. It's not like we're the only ones that ever laughed at her! That's impossible! I bet her own  _people_ laugh at her!" Peter, sitting on the sofa, shrugs at something Isaac said. (Stiles hadn't heard it, but with the way the teenager was eyeing him, it wasn't too farfetched to think they were enjoying his problem.) (In fact, Peter has a stupid amused look on his face, which irritates the shit out of Stiles, so he angrily points a finger at him and shouts, "I hate your face!" before spinning on his toes to carry on pacing.)

He's in the middle of verbally hashing out just how much he'll need to grovel at the witch's feet when the door to the loft suddenly opens, and in come Allison and Lydia, with matching frowns, and the worst news  _ever_.

"She's gone," Allison says, addressing all of them but looking at Stiles. "All of her stuff's gone too. She could be anywhere by now. But she left a note saying that it would disappear in a while, just like Deaton said."

Cursing, Stiles wrings his hands together and watches as she makes a beeline for Scott, cooing as she goes, his own feet bringing him to a stop at Derek's side. They're disgustingly cute, Scott and Allison, the kind of couple that people would pronounce as Scott n' Allison, or Scottnllison. Or  _something_. Maybe like a smush name, like in Glee, or whatever the hell they called it. Scottson? Allisott? Oh god, no. But the disgusting behaviour of two people completely in love took the air right out of Stiles' wind, flailing his hands at the pair as he turned to Derek.

"I want that too," he said, shrugging as Derek gave him a creeped out look. Whatever the hell everybody was hearing from their end must've been really weird - even Boyd had a constipated look on his face. "Won't I ever find someone that  _likes_ me?"

To his surprise, Lydia answers with a huffy, "Oh my god. Has he been like that since we left?"

 _I can understand you, you know_ , Stiles thinks with a roll of his eyes, even as Derek nods and rubs a hand across his face in exhaustion. At least, it looks like exhaustions, werewolf powers probably make it impossible to have bags under your eyes, or to look pale, unless you're bleeding out and five minutes shy of actually dying. Then regardless of whether or not you're a werewolf, you're gonna look like shit.

Looking to the heavens for support, Lydia digs into her bag and pulls out her phone, flipping it open. Angrily, she orders, "Say 'my name is Stiles'."

Clueing in to what she might be asking of him, Stiles narrows his eyes at her and dutifully says, "My name is Stiles."

He's right, because after she types at her phone for a moment, Lydia snaps it shut and casually tells them, "He's speaking Somali."

Of course. Because one of the very basics of any language is how to introduce yourself. Stiles snorts, the noise covered up by Isaac immediately asking, "So-what?"

"Somali." Lydia answers primly. "The official language of Somalia, a country in the east of Africa. They're mostly known for having one language, one culture, and one everything, which is pretty rare for an African nation, but not unheard off. Also known as the horn of Africa."

She must have wikipedia'd it while she was at it, because no  _way_ did she just  _happen_ to have information about a country even Stiles only vaguely knew off. And Stiles was the  _king_ of wikipedia-ing. Isaac follows it up with a comment about pirates. Pirates! Which yeah, okay, definitely one of the major reasons why the country pops up in the news nowadays - but it very much does not impress Lydia, who scoffs at them all dismissively.

"Anyway," she says, jabbing a finger at Stiles' direction. "It'll go away sooner or later. Until then, shut up Stiles."

Offended, Stiles makes a noise and says, "No."

To his greatest amusement, Lydia nods once in confirmation and sashays away to sit on the opposite side of the sofa, far away from Peter who gives her a smarmy smile. She totally thought he'd agreed to her, and Stiles can't blame her because if he'd been speaking English? Yeah, he would have definitely said yes.

But that's the thing isn't it? He's  _not_ speaking English. At first he'd thought the witch had cursed him to not be understood, but obviously now he knows that instead she cursed him into speaking a different language entirely. That means nobody can understand him, that no matter what Stiles said, nobody would actually  _hear him_.

And Stiles? Stiles has a  _lot_ to say.Tons.

Derek's the closest, but Derek also has a grumpy face which looks even more grumpy than usual, so Stiles turns to the next werewolf and crouches down in front of Isaac, breathing in deeply to settle his nerves and establishing eye contact.  _Don't look away_ , he tells himself,  _don't break eye contact_ ,  _be the wolf, show your dominance_. Isaac stares back at him, not breaking the eye contact, but telegraphing loud and clear that he has no idea what the fuck Stiles is doing.

"Isaac," Stiles begins, trying to hold back the urge to blink his eyes. "I don't like how you and Scott have just suddenly become friends, but you're not a bad person. At the beginning you were crazy," here, he nods and widens his eyes, just to get across his point, because wow, Isaac had been a straight up  _douche_ at the start, "But now you're okay. I'd like it if we could become friends too. But I don't know how to..." How to get there? How to do it? No, god, he doesn't want to have  _sex_ with the guy, he just wants to be friends! Why couldn't this be like kindergarten where all you have to do is give another toddler a thumbs up and wait for them to either deign you with a similar thumbs up or reject you with a thumbs down? "How to do _that_." He finally settles on, because what the hell, it's not like Isaac can understand him anyway.

Isaac breaks eye contact first, which has Stiles grinning in victory and punching the air a little. Both Boyd and Scott shrug at the curly haired teenager, and Stiles can see Derek's face and the raised eyebrows of werewolf-y doom rise in a silent shrug too. After getting no help from them, Isaac turns back to him and slowly nods. "Um, okay." He says, carefully sounding out each syllable. "Yeah. Sounds... great."

Stiles beams, and pushes himself up to his feet. The success of telling Isaac something he'd been thinking of for a while now has him more confident enough to turn to the others, but not  _suicidal_ enough to try anything with Lydia. She still has her phone in her hand, and the knowingly dangerous look she gives him has Stiles breaking out in hives and making a beeline for Peter instead. He wouldn't put it past her to record everything he said and find a translator. Or maybe she secretly knew Somali anyway, just like she happened to know Archaic Latin.

With Peter, he tells the creepy dude that he's creepy. "But you're not as psycho as you obviously was when you first woke up, so I'm guessing being dead sort of reset your factory settings and now you're only slightly unhinged. I still don't forgive you for Lydia, or for Laura, but good job on murdering everyone that actually had a hand in killing your family. Seriously, I don't know what I'd have done if somebody hurt my dad, but considering I was willing enough to throw a bomb at you when all you'd done was bite Scott, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't balk from protecting my family. Or, uh, seeking revenge. You're still creepy though, and for god's sake stop looking at me with that face, _ugh_."

Peter  _doesn't_ stop looking at him with 'that face' (the slight curl to his lips, the dark eyes  _smoldering_ at him, and it should be like a warning sign that Stiles even has to uses a word like  _smoldering_. Nobody should  _smoulder_ at you.  _Nobody_. Except maybe Derek. But he's the angst-y, glower-y, smoulder-y type, anyway.)

Huffing, Stiles wags a reproachful finger at him, then snaps it back to the safety of his chest when Peter (jokingly, he hopes) bites at it with blink-and-you'll-miss-it fangs.

Right. He's obviously outstayed his welcome.

Next is Boyd, who has the same blank face on him he's always had, the one that very badly covers up the anger lying underneath. He knows the guy has some serious I-got-kidnapped-and-beaten issues, and then there's Erica (who was  _Stiles'_ friend too, asshole), but he doesn't have to be so  _mean_ to Stiles, does he? Stiles was totally his friend even before the bite! Sure, it was more of a business thing, but Boyd had never shown an interest in getting to know Stiles, so Stiles had been nice enough to not bother him. "You're always so angry!" He tells the guy, exasperation in his voice. There's nothing else he can say, because that's basically the gist of it.  _Stiles'_ got kidnapped too, thank you very much, and maybe not by the alphas, but definitely by Gerard and his stupid entourage.

But whatever. Boyd wants to stay angry and not be friends? Fine. He'd give in to Stiles' amazingness sooner or later.

He didn't really have much to tell Scott, who was mute anyway, so he just gave the poor guy a big hug and bumped the fist held up to him. Man, Scott was the best. Best bro.

Which, uh, left Derek.

Right. He could do this. He could  _totally do this_.

Determined, Stiles stomped towards Derek, ignoring the way Derek's eyebrows rose to his hairline inch by inch with every step Stiles took closer to him. Very reasonably (if he says so himself) he informed Derek of everything he did on a constant basis that was not just wrong, but  _god no_ wrong. Maybe he got a bit too passionate about it, because half way through he the whole topic of his rant changed from everything Derek did badly to everything Derek did  _good-ly_. Which wasn't even a word, but  _there_.

Because Derek's not a bad person, Derek's not a bad  _guy_ , he just has a shit load of bad luck on his shoulders and never catches a break. Stiles tells Derek he knows that the guy's trying hard, that he knows sometimes he probably feels really shitty, because of course he would, Derek was _human_ , a human with a slightly funky gene makeup that sometimes went furry and growly and had a magical special tie to the moon,  _but whatever_. Derek  _himself_ was a magical person, and Stiles, Stiles liked him very much.

Correction; Stiles  _likes_ him very much. Present tense.  _Very_ present tense. In fact,  _so_ present tense that his dad had groaned and gone to get a beer when Stiles had accidentally told him.

"I like you very much." He finishes, and then holds his breath in apprehension, in anticipation, before remembering that Derek doesn't  _understand him_ , that Derek has no idea what Stiles has just said, that Stiles has finally confessed,  _confessed_ even, and it was while he was speaking a foreign language and nobody in the room could understand him.

He laughs to dispel the suddenly tense atmosphere, waves a hand to dismissive the pained expression on Derek's face, and turns towards the stairs to sit. It puts him a little out of the circle the pack makes, has him on the fringes of it, which probably explains why Peter oh so enjoys sitting here a lot of the time. It's just what Stiles needs, because with the way he's feeling, he might as well have been rejected. At least with Lydia he'd never actually told her, face to face, just used the art of blatant clues to make it apparent to anyone in a ten mile radius. Why did he think Derek would be any different? Why did he think _telling him_ would be... good?

Well, now he knows, so he can just make sure never to do it again.  _Especially_ when he starts speaking English once more.

Not even a few minutes later and the pack starts getting up to leave. Peter's the first to go, and is soon followed by Lydia, then Scott and Allison. Stiles gets up to go too, but Derek catches his attention and signals at him to stay, which makes nerves break out in jitters all over his very agitated body. Soon, Boyd and Isaac follow after, and Stiles curiously watches as they bump shoulders on the way out. Maybe Boyd hadn't been speaking the truth about the 'no friends' thing, because he's looking very friendly with Isaac.

As soon as the door closes behind the pair, Stiles turns to look at Derek, snapping his mouth shut when Derek holds up a hand for silence, head cocked towards the door as if listening to something. He soon lowers his hand - the pack must be out of range - then turns to Stiles with a surprisingly determined face.

Slowly, haltingly, the alpha says, " _Adban ku jahlay."_

Which.  _What?_

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Stiles gapes at him, trying to figure out what Derek's even saying. He can't figure out what the words could mean, but maybe... Maybe Derek's repeating what Stiles' had said, from how it sounds on his end? Maybe it's something Stiles' said more than once, so Derek remembered it, then held it in until the pack was gone. But what could that be? What has he said more than once? He's said no, that's for sure, and... _  
_

And...

_Oh sweet mother of-_

Laughing, Stiles rethinks it through, even as he runs a hand through the short strands of his hair and steps closer to Derek. Is he really going to do this? Break the resolve he'd just made so soon? Is he really going to put himself out there, even though he's speaking a foreign language and Derek can't understand him?

Yeah, he thinks somewhat hysterically, he absolutely is. Because Derek  _tried_ , right now, to reassure him, had caught onto something and tried his damnest to make Stiles feel better, in admittedly a weird way.

And Dad had always said he needed to put himself out there more often, right? Hadn't Dad said Mom had cornered him at college and demanded he take her to see a movie?

But how can Stiles do that? Tell Derek what he's trying to say without messing things further? How can he do it with the obstacle of no mutual language between them?

 _Duh_ , a voice snarks at him rudely,  _actions speak louder than words_.

So he steps in closer, presses right up until there's only an inch seperating him and Derek, and kisses him. It's just a quick peck, just an action, with nothing behind it, but it's more than enough to get the message across. Stepping back, Stiles makes eye contact with Derek, holds it strong and steady, and says, "I like you very much."

And suddenly, Derek crowds in close and grabs a hold of him, lips pushing up against lips, kissing him within an inch of his life. Stiles responds immediately, a groan building up inside him, but instead gets cut off when Derek breaks the contact and reestablishes eye contact once more to say, "Yeah. I love you too."

What.

 _Love?_ Who's talking about love here? Derek  _loved_ him? Are you  _serious_?

Stiles grins, wide and happy, elation and disbelief warring with him as he pats Derek on the chest and happily nods to show he'd heard. And the next day, Lydia will congratulate them, "For finally getting together, god, I thought you'd dance around each other till the end of college. How did you even get across the hots you had for each other? What? You said I love you in Somali? That's... sweet. Except Somali doesn't actually have a word for love, not exactly, but they use 'I like you' pretty much as a love confession anyway, so congratulations. You owe me thirty, Allison, hah."

And Stiles will turn to Derek with a grin and a bounce to his steps, and say, "Well then. I like you very much, Derek Hale."

And Derek, with his grumpy eyebrows, will say, "Shut up."

**Author's Note:**

> You have the right to remain silent and roll on over to my tumblr, [sheriffbadass](http://sheriffbadass.tumblr.com). You have the right to send asks, and if you're too shy for it, then you shall be appointed the veil of anon to allow you to do so.


End file.
